Winchesters and Wings
by Ho-sama
Summary: The Winchesters find much to fascinate them about their friend's wings. This collection of stories about two boys and an angel explores the adoration and slight fetish that is developed for Castiel's wings. Team Free Will fluff and wing fic. [WIP]


**Title:** Winchesters and Wings  
**Chapter:** Angelic Dreams  
**Rating:** PG  
**Characters:** Dean, Sam, and Cas.  
**Spoilers:** None.  
**Warnings:** None.  
**Summary:** The Winchesters find much to fascinate them about their friend's wings. This collection of stories about two boys and an angel explores the adoration and slight fetish that is developed for Castiel's wings.

**Chapter Summary:** Sam and Dean notice something is wrong with Castiel. They speculate about his ailment and are ultimately delighted by the root of the problem.

**A/N:** I imagine these stories could take place around season 5, but you can imagine them at any time in the canon that suits you! There are no spoilers, so it doesn't matter. This is pure fluff. I just want all the angel fluff in the world. Prepare yourselves for gratuitous wing fetishization.

* * *

**Angelic Dreams**

Castiel was unwell. He had aches that he could not describe in human terms, and he was unwilling to explain them. The Winchesters were not used to seeing Cas like this, wincing as he spoke and practically limping from room to room.

"Cas, are you okay?" Sam asked once he could no longer feign obliviousness to Castiel's suffering.

"Why would I not be okay?" Cas shot back, irritated. He had no intention of revealing the source of his malady, even if asked directly. The hurt on Sam's face prompted Cas to reword his response. "I am fine, Sam. There's nothing to worry about."

Dean and Sam would have bet the farm Cas was lying. The eldest Winchester opened his mouth to say something, but Castiel vanished before he could voice his concerns. "Damn it! _Cas!_"

"What was that all about?"

"I dunno, Sammy. Maybe he's got angel diarrhea."

Sam's face scrunched up in distaste. "Ugh, Dean."

"What? Or maybe he's constipated. He looked a little constipated, didn't he?" Dean mused and then tossed Sam a playful smile. "I know because you used to make that face all the time."

"That was one time!" Sam cried and grumbled to himself. Turning his thoughts back to Cas, he said, "Maybe he has a cold?"

"An angel cold," Dean sighed wistfully because there was something adorable about the idea. Maybe Cas was in Heaven at that very instant at the Angel Walgreens, buying Angel NyQuil with his Angel Dollars.

"Why do you put 'angel' in front of everything like that? He has a human body. Maybe his human body has a cold. A regular cold." Since becoming allied with the brothers, Cas' angelic power had fluctuated often. Sam believed it was more than possible that their friend was suffering from a power-down that affected his ability to cure his vessel.

"Nah, it's an angel cold," Dean replied with certainty.

They were used to Castiel vanishing unexpectedly for various lengths of time, so they quickly put Cas' disappearance behind them and forgot all about his mysterious ailment. One day, the brothers were sharing beers in their motel room after a successfully resolved case when there was a knock at the door. Dean raised his brow at Sammy. "Expecting anyone?"

"No." Sammy shook his head and sat up in a more alert position as Dean went to the door. He peered through the peephole and promptly swung the door right open.

"Hey, Cas!" Dean beamed at the angel before him.

"Hello, Dean." The corner of Castiel's mouth almost curved into a smile because he was so happy to see Dean again. His blue eyes were glowing with pleasure. Castiel was well again.

"You _knocked?_" Dean asked, stunned. "Since when do you knock?"

"I've been informed this is the appropriate human protocol." Cas directed a meaningful look to Sam, who squirmed on his bed. Several weeks back, Cas had been looking for Dean and had instead popped into existence next to Sam. A very naked Sam. The lesson Sam taught Cas about knocking would be respected until a few weeks later when the angel would become frustrated and hindered by it.

"Who are you and what have you done with Cas?" Dean joked and Castiel narrowed his eyes.

"I don't understand. I am Castiel."

Dean grinned and tugged Cas into their room by his arm. As soon as he was inside, Dean noted that Cas was carrying a big white bag. "What's in the bag?"

Castiel looked down at the bag in his hands timidly, toying with the end of it between his fingers. It had been stuffed full of something that embarrassed the angel. With considerable shyness, Cas regarded the two boys. "A gift."

"A gift? Oh man, I love gifts. You shouldn't have." Dean took the bag, smiling brightly. By that moment, Sam had joined his brother and was peering down at Castiel's offering. Impatiently, Dean tore the end open and both boys gasped at the sight of the enormous bundle of feathers inside. Each feather was a subtly different shade of black or grayish black. Glints of obsidian twinkled in their faces like black gold as they inspected the contents of the bag.

"They are my feathers," Castiel explained, still notably self-conscious. "I was molting all last week."

Dean shot Sam a fierce look. _I told you it was angel-something!_

"You were molting?" Sam repeated in disbelief. He should have expected such behavior was possible in angels, but it somehow seemed so mundane an activity for beings so great. This was the first time Sam had ever seen a real piece of an angel and he knew it to be an honor. Sam was flustered as he spoke. "Oh, okay. Thanks, but… uh… Why are you giving your feathers to us?"

Dean looked a little disgusted now that he knew the feathers belonged to Castiel. He thought it was the human equivalent of Dean giving Cas his toenail clippings. Then again, Dean's toenail clippings were nowhere near as beautiful and alluring as Castiel's feathers.

"They have magical properties. You may find some use for them." Castiel frowned. No other beings on the planet had a cache of angel feathers like the boys now had. Castiel's gift was absolutely priceless.

"Awesome. Weird, but awesome. Thanks, Cas."

"Please keep them safe." Castiel disappeared before Dean could ask him all the other questions he had on his mind. A wondrous silence filled the motel room.

"Dean. You know what this means?" Sam's eyes were big and starry. "Cas has wings. Black wings. Actual black wings."

"Dude is _hung._" Dean marveled as he pulled out a single feather. The ink-colored piece of Cas in his hand was longer than his forearm. Castiel's feathers were huge. Dean ran the feather over the skin of his arm and shivered with delight.

"Don't do that. That's so weird," Sam protested. Just for having complained, Sam soon found the feather aimed at his face. "No!" He hissed, "Don't you dare."

Dean's expression took a turn for the wicked. Castiel's feathers would be perfect for tickling and tickling was something his brother despised. As soon as he touched Sam's face with the tip of the feather, Sam shuddered and ran away from his brother. "Cut it out!"

Dean inched near his brother, feather at the ready like a weapon.

"No! Dean!" Sam whined in horror, remembering the ways his brother had tortured him when they were young. Sam pleaded, "That is disrespectful! That's a piece of Cas! Our friend."

Dean stopped to think about it for a split second and decided he didn't care. He would never have a more perfect tickling device.

"If you don't stop, I swear I'll call Cas." The feather was a breath away from Sam. As soon as Sam brought his hands together in prayer as a threat, Dean lowered the implement of torture in his hands.

"Okay! Okay! You're right…"

Dean's green eyes flicked up to the ceiling, paranoid and apologetic. Cas had a way of knowing things and seeing things. Dean didn't want Cas to observe him mistreating a precious former part of his body so he put the feather away.

Crisis averted, Dean and Sam sat down on Sam's bed and searched through the bag of feathers. Dean kept a long feather in his hands at all times, periodically stroking it and enjoying the feel of its lengthy fibers against his face and forearms. It felt too good to stop. Sam tried to ignore his brother's unusual actions and was simply happy Dean had given up his ambitions of tickling him. Sam pondered out loud, "Now I want to know what kinds of powers these things have."

"I know, right?"

"We should check Dad's journal."

By the time they finished searching John's journal cover to cover, angel feathers completely covered the bed. Dean was so amazed by their brilliance and grandeur that he had hardly listened to a word Sam said as he flipped through their father's journal. There was little information on feathers of any kind in the journal.

"Dean."

"Hm?" Dean idly stroked the feathers on the bed, a pleased smile on his face.

"Until we find out how we can use them, we should do what Cas said. Keep them safe." Sam gave Dean a paternal look, signifying that it was now time for Dean to put away his toys.

"Yeah, okay." With great reluctance, Dean helped Sam put the bundle back together. "Tomorrow we'll stash 'em in the trunk."

Sam nodded in agreement and went about his nightly routine. It was getting late, and they had plans to leave town first thing in the morning. While Sam got ready for bed, Dean went back to his own bed and caught up on his current favorite _telenovela_. He was lying in bed with a beer in his hand, pretending like he didn't care that there was a fluffy bag of Cas on Sam's bed right next to him. He pretended like he didn't want to cover his body in those feathers. He pretended like he didn't want to fill a swimming pool with them and dive right in.

Sam emerged from having brushed his teeth and he eyed the bag. _Don't do it, Sam. It's disrespectful_. Sam cleared his throat. "G'night, Dean."

"Night, Sammy."

Slowly, Sam got underneath the covers on the side of his bed where the bag of feathers was not resting. Sam fluffed up his pillow with suspicious meticulousness. The instant Dean lowered his eyes to check the time on his watch Sam acted with ninja-esque reflexes.

"W-What?" Dean stuttered. "Hey! Where'd you put the bag?" Dean slammed his nearly empty bottle of beer on the nightstand and got up in a rage. Sam was pretending to be asleep and it didn't fool Dean for an instant.

"_Sammy_," Dean growled. He pounced on the bed and inhaled a scandalized breath when he saw Sam's face was resting on top of the white bag of angel feathers. A wrestling match initiated in which Dean tried to steal the bag of feathers away from Sam. "Disrespectful, my ass! You double-crossing little – !"

"I'm keeping them safe!" Sam argued. "There's no place safer than under my head!"

_It smells so good._

"You make me sick," Dean hissed. They fought over the bag and only stopped when they heard the distinct sound of cloth ripping. Both their jaws hung agape and their eyes filled with dismay, thinking that they had already damaged Castiel's present.

"Look what you did." Dean glared.

"It wasn't my fault! If you hadn't been tugging so hard, this never would have happened!"

"You're not allowed to sleep with Cas." Dean fumed. Red in the face, he adjusted his words. "Cas' feathers."

Sam's eyebrows shot up on his face and Dean let go of the bag. Calmer, Sam said, "It just looked so comfortable… You know, like a goose feather pillow, but with _angel_ feathers."

Sam's dreamy swoon was felt by Dean. Dean wanted to try using an angel feather pillow too, but now it was probably too late. Enticed, he reached for the bag again. "No!" Sam pulled it away. "I know you want to try it too! But it was my idea first. Please, Dean. I won't do it again, and we won't tell Cas."

"Fine!" Dean huffed. "But don't drool on it."

That night Sam rested his weary head on a wondrous mound of angel. Never in his life had he felt happier in a dream. Sam felt Heaven infiltrating his every sense and he woke up feeling joyful and refreshed. After getting dressed, the bag of feathers made its way into the Impala's trunk for safekeeping.

The second night after receiving Castiel's gift, Sam woke up at around two in the morning. When he turned, he saw Dean's cheek plastered against the ball of feathers. In his sleep, Dean wore a blissful grin.


End file.
